The Greek Tycoon's Wife (11 page)

‘If you were ill or in need of assistance, yes, I would have, but if you mean do I get my thrills from entering bathrooms uninvited? No, I do not.' Though his facial expression did not alter his abrupt shift of mood was evident in the smouldering gaze that rested on her face. ‘If I get invited in…' he gave an expressive shrug ‘…that changes things.'

‘The picture that conjures up makes me queasy.' For all
the wrong reasons, she thought. Jealousy was all she needed!

‘I didn't realise that you had such prudish tendencies. Though I should have guessed when you said you and Tom do not talk about sex.'

‘I am not a prude,' she denied angrily. Aware that her reaction was a bit OTT, she moderated her voice but couldn't prevent her distaste creeping in. ‘I just think what goes on between a man and woman in private should remain that way and should not become the subject of crude jokes.'

‘Well, at least you recognise it was a joke. Perhaps some food will help you gain some sense of proportion?'

If he wanted plain talking she'd show him she could do that too! ‘And for your information we don't
talk
about sex, we
do
it!' She smiled triumphantly as she flaunted her non-existent sex life under his superior nose.

For a moment Nikos looked startled, then a deep laugh was wrenched from the depths of his throat. ‘Thank you for sharing that with me,' he said solemnly.

Katie had never felt so humiliated in her life. She didn't know how she'd allowed herself to be goaded into making such a childish retort.

‘Why shouldn't I have a healthy sex life? What's so funny about that?' she demanded.

‘You talk about sex with the same swaggering bravado as a boy who has not yet lost his virginity.'

‘I am not a boy.'

‘Nor a v—'

‘You know, I think I am a little hungry,' she cut in brightly.

This attempt to change the subject was so blatant that Nikos smiled. His smile guttered as an incredible thought occurred to him. He shook his head, dismissing it almost instantly; it was amazing what crazy ideas a man could get into his head when he hadn't eaten or slept.

Being an honest man, he couldn't be totally sure if his diminished mental acuity didn't lie at the door of a quite different basic need that was not being met. A basic need that he was conscious of every time he looked at his friend's lover…his own wife.

Nikos frowned. He had all the complications and surprises he needed in his business life; he made sure his personal life was unstressed and uncomplicated. It seemed if he wanted a return to that desirable status quo it would be necessary to remove Katerina Forsythe from his life as soon as possible. Which was the reason he'd come here, but somehow in between rescuing cats from burning buildings and being hospitalised he had been losing track of that detail.

‘Fortunately I ordered enough for two in case you changed your mind.'

Katie looked beyond him and saw the glass-topped table set with a tempting array of light refreshments. Her stomach growled softly, reminding her of how little she'd eaten during the past twenty-four hours.

‘Oh…' She gave a last wistful look at the spread. ‘Actually I think I'm fine after all,' she explained unconvincingly.

‘This sudden loss of appetite—is it a case of…cutting off your nose to spite your face? Have I got that right?' he asked innocently.

‘Don't be cute!' she accused. ‘Your English is a damned sight better than mine and we both know it,' she growled.

‘Nobody has ever called me
cute
before. I'm touched.'

She found she couldn't carry on acting as though she were unaware of the malicious mockery in his lean face. ‘So must I be…in the head!' She banged a hand against the side of the area in question. ‘Just being here makes me certifiable.' Her expansive gesture took in the luxurious surroundings.

‘Are you crying?'

Katie heard the wary quiver in his deep voice and remembered he didn't like women's tears.

‘No, but it would serve you right if I was,' she told him, sniffing loudly.

Nikos's expression softened; she talked so tough but looked so vulnerable. The combination affected him strongly.

‘It's true I don't like women's tears, but if anyone has reason to weep it is you. You have been very brave…but now you are tired and hungry. Come and eat. Let's call a truce.'

Though she was highly sceptical of his offer of a truce, quite irrationally his unexpected kindness cut through Katie's defences where all his clever taunts had not.

‘What's on the sandwiches?' If she persisted in being stubborn, he might jump to the totally wrong conclusion—namely that she was scared to be in the same room as him!

Nikos had the good sense not to act as if he had won. ‘Smoked salmon and cream cheese, beef and horseradish and cucumber?'

Katie found it hard not to drool. ‘I am hungry.' As if to back up her words her stomach chose that moment to growl again—this time extremely loudly. Her glare dared him to laugh. ‘And I hate to see good food go to waste.'

‘Indeed,' he agreed, maintaining his gravity. ‘Especially just to prove a point.'

‘So much for a truce. I knew you couldn't do it!' she crowed.

‘It doesn't start until we start eating.'

‘Well, if you're going to make the rules up as we go along…'

‘I surrender, you win,' he conceded, holding up his hands in mock submission.

‘I'm not the one scoring points, I'm hungry.'

Nikos stepped aside to let her pass. ‘So am I,' he murmured.

Katie took his enigmatic words at face value—she wasn't going somewhere that anybody with an ounce of sense would fear to tread!

Nikos led her to a long cream sofa piled high with plump cushions.

‘Elevate your foot,' he suggested, pushing the cushions into a pile one end.

She had sat down at the opposite end before the extent of his inside knowledge struck her. ‘How did you know I'm supposed to?'

Nikos slid a hand under her knees and neatly swivelled her round. ‘I asked the doctor,' he divulged, placing her feet on the pile of cushions.

Katie's toes curled; she was astounded and indignant. ‘And he told you?' So much for patient confidentiality.

‘You are my wife.'

‘Will you stop saying that?' she begged.

‘Even if I do it will not change anything. I doubt the doctor saw any reason not to tell me. Now where is this bandage?'

‘In my pocket.'

‘It should be on your foot.'

‘Well, I couldn't get it on, it's too tight. I tried.'

He held out his hand. ‘Let me.'

Katie shook her head. ‘Don't be silly.' She scooted her feet up the sofa and tucked them protectively under the hem of her robe.

A nerve began to pulse in his lean cheek. ‘My touch offends you?'

‘Don't be silly, of course not!' she scoffed.

Telling him what his touch actually did was naturally not an option.

‘You are hyperventilating.'

‘I am not and there really is no need for a bandage; my ankle feels perfectly fine after the bath.' Her voice rose to a shrill squeak in her frantic efforts to convince him.

‘No, it is not, I saw you limping.'

Katie closed her eyes in frustration. ‘Go on, have it your way,' she gritted, untucking her leg and stretching it out stiff-kneed.

She could hardly tell him the idea of him placing his hands on her skin for any length of time made her hot with excitement and cold with dread. What if she got turned on? Who was she kidding? There was no
if
about it! Hell, he only had to look at her and she felt emotionally mugged. What if when he touched her she did or said something
really
stupid?

Nikos silently looked at the ankle extended towards him but he made no attempt to touch it or her. The moment stretched on…

He remained motionless so long the muscles in her thigh started to quiver. The silence between them was heavy with tension; finally Katie could bear it no longer.

‘Are you going to do this or not?' she demanded peevishly.
Not
would be good.

Nikos rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing the sinewy strength of his forearms. Katie was engulfed by a wave of longing that filled her with despair.

‘Then for goodness' sake get it over and done with!' she snapped.

When he did take her ankle between his big hands, they felt cool and capable. His attitude as he gently examined the tender bruised area was detached but sympathetic.

‘It is badly swollen and the bruising is coming out.' His dark brows met in a frowning line as he examined her injury with strong, sensitive fingers. ‘It looks extremely painful.'

It was, but this wasn't the reason Katie evaded his questioning glance. When she looked at him she saw his fingers touching, stroking areas on her body other than her ankle. The dangerous fantasy fuelled the pulse of inappropriate excitement that throbbed through her.

She took out her self-disgust on her innocent ankle. ‘You didn't mention ugly,' she told him with a disconsolate sniff. With a frown she compared the injured ankle with her sound one; it was at least three times the size.

‘I'm sure Tom will still love you if you had ankles as thick as tree trunks.'

She supposed it was the thought of Tom's uncritical adoration that brought the thin sneer to his lips. As far as Nikos was concerned she would never be good enough for his friend or him.

‘I'm not so sure,' she mused half to herself as her thoughts turned to Tom's love of all things beautiful and perfect.

It was only his way of talking but sometimes, when Tom referred to her as his most precious possession, it made her uncomfortable. Tom liked his possessions in mint condition; if anything fell below the high standards he demanded he got rid of it. He had laughed and called Katie hopelessly sentimental when, after dropping a valuable vase, she hadn't let him throw it away.

‘You bought it for me that day we went to an antique fair, and if I turn it like this,' she explained, ‘you won't be able to see the crack at all.

‘It's not worth anything now. I'll buy you another one.' He looked perplexed when she told him a new one wouldn't be the same.

‘No, because then it won't have a flaw,' he replied drily.

Would he buy another wife just as easily when the old one got too worn? Katie was immediately ashamed of the unbidden thought.

‘You place a high value on your looks and a low one on yourself.'

The stinging contempt in Nikos's voice brought Katie's attention swinging back to his face. She discovered he was angry. Inexplicably and impressively furious.

‘If people can't see beyond your beautiful face and at
tractive figure, don't you see that that is their problem, not yours?'

Katie blinked in bewilderment at the harsh reproach in his voice. He thought she had a beautiful face…?

‘I…' She bit back a cry of pain as his lean fingers tightened painfully around her bruised ankle.

Nikos immediately loosened his grip. ‘I'm sorry I hurt you.'

‘Not really,' she lied.

He grunted and slid her a look of irritation. Supporting her ankle against his own knee, he proceeded to roll the tubular bandage into a manageable shape.

‘I would ask you to tell me if it hurts, but—' he raised his dark head from his task and there was an ironic gleam in his eyes ‘—I'd be wasting my time, wouldn't I?'

Katie doubted any pain could be worse than that sharp but sweet pleasure of having his fingers brush lightly against her skin.

‘Thank you,' she said quietly when the support was back in place.

Nikos finished smoothing invisible wrinkles from the bandage over the curve of her calf and lifted his head; there was a faint flush along his high cheekbones. ‘It was hardly brain surgery. Sit there,' he added. ‘I'll bring you some food.'

‘Oh! I thought I'd just take something to my room.'

One side of his mobile lips dropped.
‘Running away?'

‘I can't run.'

‘That's true. I don't like to eat alone; stay.'

Not likely. ‘All right, I'll stay,' she heard herself reply. ‘It seems a strange time of night to be eating.' But then it had been a strange day.

‘You eat when you are hungry.'

Katie smiled at this simplistic philosophy; it was very Nikos.

‘People have far too many hang-ups about food,' he revealed. ‘How's this?' he added, passing her a laden plate.

‘If I had any hang-ups about food I'd faint, but it looks great.' Her enthusiasm sounded false and hollow to her own ears; it was the fault of his slow-burning smile, the one that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

‘We can pretend we're having a midnight feast, is that not what they do in English schools?'

‘Not the one I went to,' Katie replied, thinking of the local comprehensive she had attended. She imagined it was a far cry from the sort of school Nikos had gone to. In fact her life was a far cry from his.

‘Were you clever at school?'

‘Not particularly,' she replied, suspicious of his interest. ‘But I was very popular.' She gave a sudden impish grin that gave him a glimpse of the dry sense of humour that she had not had much opportunity to display in his company. ‘But only because I had an extraordinarily handsome twin brother. You'd be amazed at how many girls wanted to come home for tea with me.'

‘You were a twin?'

Katie, her mouth full of sandwich, nodded.

‘It must have been especially hard for you to lose him,' he mused. Katie didn't reply; talking about Peter was still hard. ‘What sort of man was your brother?'

Katie considered the question.

‘He was handsome, impetuous, funny…' She stopped and flicked a wry look towards Nikos—best to beat him to the punchline. ‘In short he was the exact opposite of me.'